Francie's Hut, March 2005

The idea was to ski into Francie's Hut, about 5 miles from Breckenridge. Four of us skiied in Friday, joined by three more on Saturday. (The hut sleeps 20, so there were others there both nights too.) We spent Saturday skinning up and skiing down fabulous terrain in the valley above the hut, between Peak 10 and Mt. Quandary.

Return to thumbnails

Run Slideshow (big images)

Loading up in Boulder.
Steph betrays her Wisconsonian roots at the Breckenridge base, with the cows and the booze.
John, our parking-lot neighbor, shows us how the experts do it. (He's passing time until he heads up at noon to clip a ticket and ride.)
The back-country hut is regularly served by the ski bus.
Chuck, Steph, Karl, and me. Joining us the next night will be John, Al, and Amy.
After riding the bus to Breck, we head up the trail to the hut (~ 5 miles).

The many faces of Karl Kellogg.

Nearing the hut...

Chuck gets started on (and finishes) the Trader Joe's liqueur...
Dinner 1: garlic bread, mulled wine, and a 9-lb lasagne packed on dry ice.

Teeth are brushed in parallel.
Steph looks all sultry with her toothbrush and that sexy Nalgene...
Chuck's pants lie almost aflame.

In the morning, Steph expresses exactly how she feels about her swedish pancakes.

Chuck breaks out the 7:30 AM Kahlua Especial.
Matt and ? sit at the table, observed by Herb and Francie on the wall. (The hut is named for Francie; the sauna is named after Herb, who died several years later.)
A person with an unknown name enjoys breakfast after her first hut trip.
In full-color, Steph is now more emotional about those pancakes.

Sandy maps while skins dry.

The four of us set out up the canyon for some day-trippin'.

Steph points (but at what?)

Check out that beard!
Steph at the base of our first descent.

OK, now there's a lot of photos of all of us skiing. It really was a fabulous day. I know there's too many photos, but just make a little flip-book of them (or click quickly), and they'll make a sweet movie, guaranteed.

Carl starts to lose it...

Check out that powder!

Steph, Chuck, and their skins coordinate very well.

Top of the next run.
Whoa! OK, so this is the ptarmigan that I apparently skiied right over as I descended. It squawked and ran about 15' once I'd cleared the area. The white-on-white coloring is no doubt of some evolutionary advantage, but it's a hindrance as far as skiier-bird collisions go.

We left the hut in good hands; unfortunately, it's listing significantly upon our return.

Chuck finishes off the remaining 7 pounds of lasagne.
Back out again...

By Saturday PM, John/Al/Amy have arrived. John dishes up the linguini as we return from more runs, but not without a trip through the wood-fired sauna.

Steph has been re-born.

I attempt table bouldering just before Chuck peels off the hands, upgrading the route to a IIIi/T7+ (Mh).
Icicles outside, passing through the reflected window.
Matt strums.
Karl sleeps.
Steph brushes.
Karl sleeps some more.
Amy boggles.

Steph lays.

Chuck lunches.

Lounging after lunching.
Back in Breck...

The requisite post-hutting fluid replenishment.

Whoa! That's the sun, behind an icy lenticular cloud that's been following us nearly all the way from Berck to Evergreen. No color enhancement -- that's the real thing.

Kaia feels very foreshortened.
We drive and photograph, although the division of responsibilities is not entirely clear.


Henry Throop

Last modified Mon Apr 18 13:33:27 2005